


safe here, with you

by JulyB96



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-02
Updated: 2017-06-02
Packaged: 2018-11-08 06:03:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11075535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JulyB96/pseuds/JulyB96
Summary: something happened at the senate house, something always happens. but this time gwen's crying and dakota knows for sure, it's worse than usual.just a small moment between gwen and dakota, because every demi-god deserves a break.a gift for @hehkhatea





	safe here, with you

    The door slamming shut is what woke him. 

 

    Dakota sat up from where he’d been lying on the couch and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, blinking the sleep away as Gwen strode in, keys gripped in one hand, her purse in the other. Her face was red and her chest heaved in repetition, up and down, up and down, up and—

 

    “Gwen,” He pushed off the couch, meeting her halfway across the room. “Why are you crying?”

 

    “I was at the Senate House with Reyna and—” She coughed, throwing a hand over her mouth. Tears spilled onto her cheeks; he wiped them away gently. “This messenger barged in and, and  _ fuck _ , Dakota it’s so bad.”

 

    “Hey,” He pressed a kiss to her cheek. “It can’t be that bad. I don’t hear any sirens, and hey, do you hear that? Not a single baby crying.”

 

    “No, it is.” She discarded her things on the floor, fingers flying through her hair in panic. He reached for her but she began to pace through their front room. “The messenger came in and he, he was screaming. There was so much fear on his face, he had a note in his hand from Hazel. She received an iris message from Camp Half-Blood.”

 

    “What happened?”

 

    “A demi-god, a Roman demi-god was visiting because of the peace agreement and they—they set off a Greek fire bomb in the camp’s Big House.”

 

    His brows scrunched up, “What? On accident?”

 

    Her head whipped towards him, “On purpose.”

 

_     “Fuck.” _

 

    “I know,” She cried, then her face scrunched up in fury; he knew that look. “Gods! That stupid, evil motherfucker!” Her fist flew into the wall, making no damage against the brick, but causing her to pull back, groaning from the pain. 

 

    Dakota expressed his dismay, put his hands on her shoulders, and lead her over to the couch, taking her hand in his as he sat down next to her. He examined the knuckles, one was bleeding and another scratched; nothing a little nectar wouldn’t fix. She pulled her hand away and sighed, rubbing a hand across her cheek.

 

    “Gwen, I still don’t understand why you were crying.”

 

    She stared at him, tears threatening her eyes once more, “Because this is bad.”

 

    He nodded, “It really is, but—and don’t get me wrong, I’d prefer not to live through a Greek and Roman war in my lifetime—we’ve been through much worse. There are several notable instances, I even have pictures.”

 

    She rolled her eyes, “Don’t remind me.”

 

    “So, do you wanna tell me why you were crying? I understand if you don’t, but it hurts to see you sad.”

 

    “Does it ever end?”

 

    “What?”

 

    “This!” She gestured around the room. “The constant threat, the fighting, do we ever get a break?” His shoulders slumped, hand reaching to intertwine with hers. 

 

    “That just comes with the job, though. We’ve always known that.”

 

    “Yeah,” She leaned her head against his shoulder. “Sometimes it just gets hard.”

 

    “Yeah, it does.”

 

    The fell into silence, a simple sort of silence. It didn’t eat away at them, it wasn’t heavy, but it lingered in the air and seemed to whisk away their speech as if to say,  _ you don’t need this right now. _ Dakota kept them on the couch for awhile, laying back into the cushions, and pulling Gwen right down next to him. He combed his fingers through her hair and her thumb rubbed absentmindedly against the hand he had lying between them. It would’ve been smart, to rush the outside, to check on everyone—to be brave, but even half-bloods deserved a break every now and then; everyone deserved to quit for a day. They stayed there, curling into one another, until his eyelids grew heavy and he was pulling a blanket over the both of them.

 

    When he woke, he glanced out the window to find the sky had grown a dusty pink, with a gold hue licking at the very edges of the glass. His stomach grumbled and he wiped at his eyes, careful not to wake his still-sleeping girlfriend. Gwen’s hair had fallen across her face and gently, he pushed it back, curving it around her ear. With careful movements, he pulled himself away and stood, tucking the blanket back around her; after a quick kiss to her cheek, he headed for the kitchen.

 

    She found him sometime afterwards, stumbling into the room, feet shuffling against the linoleum floor. He was halfway through cooking dinner, pushing food idly around a pan as he stood in front of the stove. The food smelled good, it had to or she wouldn’t have walked in—she usually walked in, he was a pretty decent cook. Her arms wrapped around him, her head resting between his shoulder blades; a hand dipped below his navel and he jumped.

 

    “Hey now,” Dakota said. “I’m working the magic, no interruptions.” She hummed and laughed, but moved no further. They ate in silence, hands joined over the table. Gwen didn’t blink when he opened the wine and she didn’t chastise when he poured a second glass, he was grateful for that. 

 

    The night progressed uneventfully, despite their nerves, and when they finally crawled into bed, a sigh escaped from both of them. It was dark, nothing but a slither of light seeping in through the curtains from a streetlamp outside. Dakota rolled on his side, eyes meeting Gwen’s expectant gaze. He could barely see, but her expression was notable enough; upset, tired. Her cat, Nick Fury, leapt up on the bed and sauntered behind her knees, making himself comfortable against her shins. He moved closer, wrapping a hand around her waist. The room was calm, the outside moreso, nothing but the sound of crickets filtering through the window. Gwen slipped her hand up his chest, resting it over his heart, she did that whenever she was on-edge, unsure. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, but she tipped her head upward to cover his lips with her own. It lasted for a moment, maybe two, before they broke apart and she ducked down, resting into the crook of his neck. The shifted ever closer, until they were practically entangled, unable to ignore the steady pulse of each other’s heartbeat.

 

    “We’re gonna be alright,” She whispered, the words sounding like a promise.

 

    “We’re gonna be alright,” He agreed and let himself rest, without worry, if only for a night.

 


End file.
